Well, that makes a change from my dog ate my sock. But it was just as annoying. Halfway round our usual afternoon walk, I started to feel a hard lump in my boot. I wiggled my toes, scrunched my foot, stomped around, but couldn't shift it. My long wellie sock had been well and truly eaten by my wellie boot. Just the left one had gone; hadn't yet started on the right one.
I tried to roll the top of my boot down far enough to each the top of my sock, no good. I considered taking off my boot to retrieve my sock, but how do I do that hopping on one leg holding on to two Boxers? Impossible.
So I decided to walk on and ignore the increasing bump, almost walking on the toes of my left foot. I must have looked quite a sight. Even the dogs looked at me funny. Oh, what the heck, they're just dogs and there was no one else around.
That's the fun of walking in the woods. It's quiet and if we do meet anyone else they're often just as strange as we are. That's dog walkers for you.